Change
by Sekyan
Summary: We all wish we could change something. A little story focused on Henry and his regrets in FNaF 6. A bit of worldbuilding. I know it doesn't list Henry as a character, but Henry's there.


If I could change one thing, it'd be trusting William.

If I could reverse everything, I never would have said hi to the mysterious boy in fourth grade. I would have gone home, I wouldn't have missed that fateful bus. I wouldn't have been stuck in the school office next to the odd boy with a shock of brown hair. I wouldn't have started talking to him while my mother talked to the receptionist. I wouldn't have waved good-bye to the weird kid as I left.

He wouldn't have waved back.

It's funny how the littlest choices and circumstances can land you somewhere totally different. All my life choices, as small or big, innocent or informed as they were, all managed to land me in a burning pizzeria, surrounded by regrets and monsters. A robotics major seemed like such a good idea. A pizzeria for kids to be safe and happy was a brilliant choice. The college I chose, the friends I picked, the goals I chased… did they all lead back to this cursed franchise, tainted and corrupted?

When had the dreams I had for William and myself started to rot? A family for both of us, wives and children, money and success, grandchildren of our own, friendships, fortune, and fame? When did it all crumble? When did William stray from his path to a wonderful life? And why did he stop believing in our dream? It was all there, right in front of us.

He only saw immortality, and the naivete of my own ideals. Changes were made. Safety and security was overlooked, money and power dominated the thoughts of Afton. It wasn't for the children, it was for him and what he believed in.

How did I miss everything? The warning signs that everything was not, in fact, right? His aloofness, loss of interest in everything that he had dedicated himself to? The Aftons were like second family to me. His nervous, quiet son, who knew my own daughter so well, his fiery, spirited daughter who was practically a sister to mine, and his eldest son. I've forgotten the youngests' old faces and personalities, and they doubtlessly have forgotten themselves too.

And the rough, vindictive eldest Afton son, who carried his confidence and determination from his teenage days to his adult. The arrogance that had doomed his brother was now humbled confidence that was now carrying him through his night shifts with unwavering grit. Determination held him tall, the refusal- no, the _inability_ to give in to beasts that tormented him. A stubborn, bold, confident man with a iron moral code, perfect for the jobs he undertook.

A shred of his old self remained, however. I'd heard him yell obscenities at the robots while they crawled, ambled, and dashed towards him. The cockiness he always had shone through, as the audio and video recordings from a previous location had preserved records of him even going as far as to throw things at the advancing machines and taping crass things to the doors, windows, and the monitor equipment, hand drawn, so he had some art talent. I could appreciate the vigor that he defended himself and what he stood for with, but I was a tad annoyed by his disrespect.

Being the man he is, he just shrugged and asked if he could go home. I let him go.

I once asked him a question, one he wasn't expected. What would he change? Michael stared at me, at a loss for words for once. "About me? About someone else? Some _thing_ else?" he'd asked, unsure about how to respond. "Any event or decision you or someone else made," I had replied. He'd snorted, and I caught a glimpse of undecipherable emotion in his eyes. "What's not to be changed?" he murmured. He dropped a hand to his side, squeezing bony fingers together. I knew that look. It was a look of contemplation and wistfulness, one I was all too familiar with.

"I would change… what happened to Andrew and Lizzy," he began. "Maybe that Mom didn't die, or we all had a different dad." he rambled, opening up his regrets. As different as we may be, we had very much the same struggles and the same problem, causing a relation to happen. "Or that Dad wouldn't go senile a-and insane and we'd _actually_ have families or that the souls didn't stick around or those night guards and children didn't have to die," he listed.

"Everything. I'd change everything..." he trailed off, guilt and brokenness entering his tone. I clapped him on the shoulder. "Who would've thought it'd be an old man and a kid trying to stop a catastrophe nobody knows about," I joked. "Yeah, they probably think I'm headed for a mental institution for coming back to these locations," he returned. We'd laughed a little, and I sent Michael Afton on his way.

What we all wouldn't do to change something.

I would change so much. But I hope he's learned. Learned about remorse. He knows what he's done, what he's caused, but I don't think a scrap of remorse or regret hides in the rotten, filthy body he wears, or in the depraved and deranged soul he has. But he keeps coming back, the a herald of tragedy and horror. I remember something that my own, dear, precious daughter had said from within the two bodies she controls. "The others are like animals," Charlie had said. "But I am very aware."

Is that what Afton lacks? Awareness? He is animalistic, yes, but is the difference between my daughter and that monster due to _awareness_? William is aware of what he's doing, he has _spoken_ before. So is my daughter. What kind of awareness could she be talking about? I didn't know until now.

It's emotional awareness. More specifically, empathy.

Empathy made all the difference.

William could not see past his own dreams and ideals, to the people they would affect. That's the reason that his cursed circus was made, wasn't it? A lack of _empathy._ Empathy for the souls. Empathy for his workers. Empathy for his own family.

Could have been that egotism and spite Michael held in his teen years, too. It was a recipe for disaster, one that had happened and swallowed the Afton and Emily families whole.

Life choices, dreams, empathy and lack thereof had carried them so far. My dreams had led to my decisions, and a lack of empathy brought everything to their knees. There were no innocents in this disaster by now, only tired, tortured souls. It was time to let go, and close this curtain on this freakshow.

I'd see my wife and daughter on the side. Michael would find his mother, sister, brother, and be together again.

And we'd all be a family again.


End file.
